The end of my first year of blogging

Aw well, that’s my first year of blogging nearly over. I had no idea what to expect from this when I wrote my first wee post on New Year’s Day 2011. The blog was meant to be a tool to encourage me to write more often - without getting too hung up on the technicalities - and also help me to focus on finding good things in my day, even when the day didn’t seem like a good day. I wasn’t sure if anyone, beside my family, would read any of the posts. I tried to convince myself that it didn’t matter if no one read my blog, or if folk read it once then never came back for any more. I don’t think I was very successful in that. I’m not as hung up on the statistics now. I went through a wee phase of worrying far too much about the number of followers, or the number of views, or the number of comments – and I thank each and every one of my wee band of ‘official’ followers for taking the time to help me get that number up at a time when I thought nobody was really reading the blog. (Especially you Dianne!) I felt, at that time, that there was no point in continuing with the blog if no one was getting anything from it, other than me. I don’t feel like that now, but I do sincerely appreciate every single time someone tells me that they’ve either enjoyed, been touched by, laughed at, didn’t like or could relate to something I’ve written. Every single one of those wee bits of feedback make the blog worth continuing with, for another wee while at least.

From my anon pal (the friend who knows me better than any other!), to all my other great pals, to my blogging friends that I’ll probably never meet in person, to my new buddies through choir, courses and voluntary work – thank you all for making this blog happen.

Most importantly, thank you to my wee family. I love you all and I so appreciate you letting me blether away here about all (OK, not quite all....) the stuff we get up to in our wee lives.

I hope you all have a happy and healthy new year – and I hope you’ll be able to find at least one little good thing in most of your days.......

Mulling over my festive highlights

I usually enjoy Christmas, and luckily this year’s been one of the usual. There’ve only been a few years that I’ve not really enjoyed Christmas; the year my Dad died; the year I had a bad dose of gastric flu; the year one of our main contractors went bust and we were struggling to keep our heads above water...anyway, this year I’ve had a great Christmas and I’m trying to decide what to note down as the highlight.

Hmm. Let’s think.

It could’ve been Christmas Eve. A meal out then the movies with Alex, my mum and the kids. I love that we all still enjoy doing that together. I also loved the banter afterwards as we argued about whether we should open our presents at midnight or in the morning. I was doing an early morning SAMS shift and wouldn’t be home till the back of nine on Christmas morning. Alex and the boys were going off for their traditional run up Dumyat (a local hill) with other members of our athletics club at ten thirty – would that hour and a half window be enough time for us all to open all of our pressies?! It’d already been decided that we were doing the round-robin-one-pressie-at-a-time thing, so with six of us taking shots each, present opening was going to take a while! Come midnight, we still hadn’t come to a decision but, fortunately, it was kind of taken out of our hands; after hugging and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, Alex left us to sort it out while he went to the loo (or so we thought...) A few moments later, me, my mum and my three over-sixteen-year-old kids had our conversation interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing and a loud “Ho Ho Ho!” coming from the hall. In a cloud of snow (the wee round paper bits that collect in the base of a paper-punch) in burst Santa (Alex in full Santa gear) himself! “Merry Christmas!”, Santa shouted, quickly followed by, “Shit! I forgot my beard!”.

Off he ran, as quickly as he’d appeared, leaving behind a lot of laughter. Take two was more successful, when Santa re-appeared wearing his big white beard. Once he’d adjusted his tummy stuffing, he proceeded to hand us all wee presents from his big sack. So, at midnight, we opened our Santa presents – the rest could wait till morning! I’ve come to the conclusion that as our kids get older, Alex definitely gets younger – at heart anyway! (Though, you’re never too old for Santa....)

What else has been a highlight? Hmm. Let’s think.

It could’ve been speaking on the radio on Christmas morning! When I got in to the car to drive home after my Samaritans shift, I switched on the radio and Des Clarke (the Capital Radio Breakfast Show DJ) was saying, “I’d like to hear from everyone that’s been out, or is still out, working this Christmas morning. The text number is...”. I don’t think I’ve ever contacted a radio station before in my whole life, but I thought it would be a good wee mention for the SAMS, so I quickly sent off a text just saying that I was on my way home after a SAMS duty and would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. The drive home takes around twenty five minutes, so I listened intently to Des’s chat – hoping for that wee mention - and singing along to the songs in between. By the time I was turning into the village, I’d given up hope of hearing the SAMS mentioned. To be honest, I was a bit miffed as Des had given a mention to some bloke working for a charity looking after stray dogs. Now, I’ve got absolutely nothing against stray dogs but I was like, ‘Come On Des! Surely if you can say hello to the guy at the stray dogs shelter you can say hello to the wifey at Samaritans?!’. Next thing, my phone rang. I just assumed it was someone phoning from home to see when I was coming so that the pressie opening could commence. “Helloooo! I’m nearly home! Two minutes and I’ll be there”, I shouted. (Am I the only person that shouts at the hands-free thingy in their cars?!) “Oh, Hi Jane. Merry Christmas! This is James from Capital Radio. Would you be willing to go live on air and have a word with Des...?” Next thing I knew, less than a minute later, I was pulling in to my driveway and Des was on the line saying we were about to go live. Now, here was a golden opportunity to raise SAMS awareness and chat about all the folk that struggle at this time of year. But, the adrenalin took over, I got all over-excited and spent the whole two minutes that I was on wishing everyone and their granny a ‘Merry Christmas’ and plugging every Heart of Scotland choir gig that came in to my mind!! It’s the second time that I’ve spoken to Des Clarke (I wrote about the first time on a previous post), and both times I’ve been just a tad over-the-top! I’m hoping that some day I’ll get the opportunity to show him that I’m actually quite normal really! So, yup, that was good fun and – even though it was a bit of a missed opportunity to raise SAMS awareness, it let me give a bit of a plug to something else that’s very close to my heart – and was definitely one of my highlights over Christmas.



But that wasn’t the only highlight on Christmas Day. Let’s think, what else?

Opening our pressies; waving the boys off – clad in Santa hats and carrying mulled wine and mince pies in rucksacks – as they left for their run up Dumyat; making a start on the Christmas dinner preparations with my mum and Gemma while the boys were away – it all made me feel toasty inside. Gemma made a rare job of spreading the butter under the turkey’s skin (a job that gives me the heeby-jeeby’s) and mum made a rare job of making the lunch time soup. But we all contributed equally to the plentiful blethering! Yup, that was definitely a highlight of the day.

There were definitely some others though.

I’d taken an executive decision that we all had to choose an ‘activity’ or ‘something’ we could all join in with on Christmas Day. I’d said it could be absolutely anything, as long as all six of us could do it together. I’d said that we weren’t allowed to tell each other what we’d chosen to do until Christmas Day, and I’d said that nobody was allowed to complain about anybody else’s choice. I’m Mum, I make the rules.

My mum had taken the word ‘activity’ a bit too literally, so after our soup we all found ourselves in the lounge, lined up in front of the telly, doing Mum’s Weight Watcher’s exercise DVD! It’s safe to say we laughed more than we exercised and all had a whole lot of fun. I stood at the back and soaked in the sight of my seventy five year old mum leading me, Alex (dressed as Santa again with the red trousers replaced by his running shorts) and the kids in a routine of side-bends and stretches! So, a high benchmark was set by Gran; the rest of us would have a hard job matching her chosen activity in the 'good fun' stakes!

Next, it was Gordon’s turn. He’d decided that we were to sit round the kitchen table and play a card game of Monopoly. I didn’t know you could get Monopoly as a card game, but it didn’t make much of a difference; I was just as rubbish at the card game as I am at the board game! It wasn’t long before I was completely bankrupt and Alex had cleaned us all out to win the game. More importantly, we got through the whole game without anyone falling out, without anyone being accused of cheating and without anyone complaining that it wasn’t fair. Probably a first in the history of Milne family games, so it was another hit in the Christmas Day activity stakes!

We had a wee break so that Gordon could play with his new toy for a while (Gordon got an iphone from Santa. He’d no idea he was getting one and it’d been brilliant to see his reaction after opening several boxes within boxes. Ocht, you’re never too old for boxes within boxes...) and I could do a bit more dinner prep! Then it was my turn to tell everyone what my chosen ‘thing’ was. Anyone who reads this blog regularly could probably have predicted my choice, so the rest of my family weren’t at all surprised when I told them we were all going to have a sing-song together. Now, that’s not all that unusual in our house, but I’d decided we weren’t just going to sing, we were going to sing in harmony! So, I took Alex to one corner to teach him the low harmony part, Gordon took his Gran and his big brother off to another corner to learn the melody and Gemma took herself off to another room to learn the middle harmony part; twenty minutes later we all got together (picture the Partridge Family except much cooler and without the big white teeth and perfect timing...) and sang the Milne version of one of my favourite choir songs. Aw, I know sounds a bit naff, but I just loved it – and my wee family did Annie’s arrangement proud!

As if that wasn’t enough excitement for one Christmas Day, we still had our dinner to get through. It was definitely a case of “it’s not what’s on the table, but who’s sitting around it that matters!” All the fun and frivolity throughout the day meant that the turkey was a little bit overdone, the spuds were a wee bit soggy and the gravy was a big bit lumpy! But the wine was just right and - on top of the little aperitifs we’d been supping earlier (t’was thirsty work doing all those activities..) – it ensured that the volume of the chit-chat and laughter rose steadily as the meal progressed! Even though the food wasn’t up to my usual standards, Christmas dinner was one of the highlights of the day.

Now, there was a time that the Master of the Milne house’s Man Drawer would’ve contained every type of battery imaginable. Alas, that was when the kids were little and had all sorts of toys that required all sorts of batteries. Just for a laugh, Ross had bought a kiddie’s game that required 2 ‘C’ batteries – none of which were to be had in any of our drawers. So, Ross’s choice of ‘thing to do’ (‘Elefun’, which involves trying to catch, in little nets, little paper butterflies that shoot out of a long, blue elephant’s trunk that’s attached to a motorised fan disguised as a toy elephant) had to be abandoned. Alex did have a go at trying to set up a sort of Heath Robinson contraption with one of our electric fans, but it failed miserably. The whole palaver was so entertaining and watching Alex and Ross trying to get this wee kiddies game to work was priceless. Nope, you’re definitely never too old for kiddies games at Christmas...

By the time we moved on to Alex’s choice of ‘something to do’ it was fairly late in the evening and the wine and other festive spirits had been flowing for quite a long time. Alex doesn't like the board game 'Cranium', but the rest of us do. So, none of us were too surprised when he announced that that was his choice. If you’re familiar with the game, you’ll know it helps to have a bit of artistic talent. It involves making wee plasticine models, drawing doodles, doing charades, solving anagrams - it's like a load of different games rolled in to one. So, as the least artistic members of the family, Ross and I were delighted to come up trumps as the winners. It was just as well that the game ended when it did as some of the plasticine models were becoming just a wee bit inappropriate...! Laughing at Gordon trying to keep his cool while his sozzled Dad tried to act, make models, draw and spell; and at Gemma being the most patient I’ve ever seen her as she made sure that her Gran didn’t feel too inadequate with her acting, model-making, drawing and spelling, and sharing lots of laughs with my team-mate as we romped home to victory - all contributed to making it such a great highlight of my day.

Gemma’s game was put onto the back boiler as we’d kind of forgotten that there’s a limited number of hours in a day. Even Christmas Day. So, knowing Gemma, we can look forward to some sort of imaginative and challenging activity in the Milne household in the not-too-distant future!

It dawned on me, as we all stumbled off to bed, that the telly hadn’t been on all day (except for Gran's exercise DVD!). I liked that. As I settled down for the night, I had a bit of a fuzzy head and a bit of an aching tummy; I’m not sure if it stemmed from the not-quite-up-to-scratch dinner or the non-stop laughing. Either way, it didn’t stop me going out like a light with a smile on my face and quietly thanking my lucky stars for my wee family. I love them all very much and they’d all contributed to a Christmas full of far too many highlights to mention!

I woke up the next morning hoping that another batch of festive highlights would ensue when more of my family, along with Alex’s family and our oldest friends came later for our traditional Boxing Day gathering. I wasn’t to be disappointed! Now, let’s think, what was the highlight of Boxing Day?

Hm, on second thoughts, that’s maybe best left for some other time....!

Everyone being home for Christmas

I’m just about to head off to pick Gemma up from the airport (she’s been away in Tenerife this past week enjoying a holiday that was awarded as one of the bonuses from her summer job) which means that Christmas is about to really start in the Milne household! I’m so looking forward to having all five of us sleeping under the one roof for a wee while and being able to spend some time all together.

I consider myself really lucky that the kids aren’t very far away when they’re at Uni, and we do see quite a bit of them during term time, but the Christmas break will be the longest that the five of us have all been together since September, and that’s really the most important thing about Christmas for me. Annie (our choir leader) summed it up nicely when she commented today on Facebook that “It’s not what’s under the tree that counts, it’s who’s around it!” and I just couldn’t agree more.

None of the rest matters. The rushing around for last minute stocking fillers; the kicking of folk out of the way to grab the last packet of parsnips; the panic that sets in when the presents are laid out on the bed and one pile looks too much higher than the others; the frustration at not being able to make your presents look all designer-wrapped with curly ribbon and matching tags and bows; the receiving of Christmas cards from folk that you’d decided to stop sending to, then guiltily scribbling a card and running along to the post box with it (knowing that they’ll receive it after Christmas Day and it’ll be obvious that you’ve only sent it because you received one from them); the dark hair roots showing because you forgot to time your appointment in line with Christmas; and even the shitty present you’ve bought for your hubby because your imagination badly let you down this year.... None of it really matters!

It’s an added bonus when all of that kind of stuff turns out well, but - as far as I’m concerned - the best Christmas pressie of all is just being able to spend a bit of time with the people who mean most to you; whether that’s just one person or a whole stack of people. It’s such a desperate time for people who, for one reason or another, can’t do that.

So, I’m thanking my lucky stars that I’m going to be spending time over the next couple of weeks with the people who mean most to me. And - even when the squabbles start, the ironing piles up and the dishwasher doesn’t get emptied - I’ll not be taking one moment of it for granted.

Edinburgh Airport here I come!

Accepting a donation

Instead of delivering Christmas cards to friends and neighbours in my wee village, I give a donation to charity. I started doing this in 2004 and was delighted when some of my friends joined in with me; together we raised the grand sum of £80. The following year, I decided to deliver a wee letter to every house in our village (around 350 or so) inviting all the residents to join in. I explained the idea, stated which charity I would be collecting for and promised that, on Christmas Eve, I would make up a ‘Village Christmas Card’ – which was basically a big poster – that would be pinned up on the notice board in our village square. The poster would wish everyone in our village a very merry Christmas from everyone that had donated to my collection. It would detail how much had been raised, and it would list everyone’s name who had handed in a donation. A sort of Communal Christmas Card! Enough people joined in to make it worth continuing with, so I’ve carried on every year since.

In 2005 we raised just over £500, in 2006 we raised just under £900 and every other year we’ve raised over £1000. Back in the beginning, the money was given to our village’s Elderly Welfare Committee but, in most recent years, I’ve passed the donation on to CHAS (the Children’s Hospice Association of Scotland).

Linda and Gregor

This year, I’ve decided to donate the money to a different charity again - The Scottish Cot Death Trust. I’ve recently become familiar with the incredible job this organisation does in supporting bereaved families, raising awareness and funding vital research through my very good friend Linda. Linda’s little boy, Gregor, died when he was just two years old and, although it was later found that Gregor had an overwhelming virus, his death was initially labelled as ‘Unexpected Death in Infancy’. He went off for an afternoon nap after being out to play one Sunday morning, and never woke up. I’m aware of how little financial support the trust receives from the Scottish government (only 3%), with the bulk of its funding coming directly from Joe Public. I’m also aware that only a tiny number of people are employed by this charity (4 full time and one part time) and that they’re based in a little office in Yorkhill Hospital. I’ve also learned that it’s the only charity in the whole of Scotland that’s dedicated to supporting families who’ve been bereaved through the sudden death of their infant by cot death and SUDI; raising funds for research into the causes of cot death and Sudden Unexpected Death in Infancy; raising public awareness of possible preventative measures; and educating the medical profession, police, the Procurator Fiscal’s office and all the other professionals who might be involved in dealing with the sensitive issues that occur following the sudden death of a baby or child.

So, after notifying the village residents that I’m doing the collection again and telling them which charity I’ve chosen this time around, envelopes containing varying amounts of cash or cheques have been tumbling through my letter box during the course of these past few weeks. I always ask folk to include a note of their names, so that they can be listed on the ‘Village Christmas Card’, and I’m always touched by the lovely messages that some of my fellow villagers write on their notes. This year I’ve had things like; “Thanks for doing this again Jane for another worthwhile cause”, “Another worthwhile charity, keep up the good work!”, and “Hope you and your family have a lovely Christmas!”. However, I was a wee bit taken aback – and a little upset – by the note written on the front of one of the envelopes that was delivered the other day. The envelope contained a cheque, made out to the Scottish Cot Death Trust, but on the front of the envelope was written, “I would prefer CHAS or the Hospice as the charity.” Just like that, nothing else.

My initial reaction was to take the cheque back to the person and tell them I’d rather they sent the money to their own chosen charity, than begrudgingly donate to the one I’d chosen. Then, I wondered if I should phone the person and explain that there isn’t a committee that sits in a smoky room spending hours discussing which charity best merits the village’s hard-earned cash and arguing over the best way to organise the collection – that it’s just li’l ol’ me. I contemplated sending him an email, explaining that we’ve raised well over £6000 for CHAS in recent years and that, in my opinion, there isn’t a sliding scale of which worthwhile cause deserves our donation most; that many, many charities do fantastic jobs and that people will always have their favourites often depending on whether or not they, their family or their friends, have benefited from the support given by one particular organisation. I thought about whether I should write a letter to the person, explaining how horrendous it is for families, like Linda’s, who lay their happy - and apparently healthy - little boy or girl down in their cots , kiss their foreheads and leave them to sleep soundly - only to return a short while later and find them dead. I thought about explaining, in a letter, that this scenario is more common than most folk think and that I think that the organisation - which is trying to help the families, authorities and scientists with everything related to sudden infant death - is one that I’m proud to support. I even considered climbing up on my high horse, knocking on this person’s door, and telling them face-to-face that I’ve personally supported CHAS, ‘the hospice’ (by which I think they mean Strathcarron) and various other charities for many years in many different ways. I don’t categorise one as more important than the other, and I have different personal reasons for supporting each of them. I can’t afford to give money to loads of charities, so I try to help in other ways, like handing bags into the British Heart Foundation shop, or volunteering for SAMS and Strathcarron for a few hours a week, or performing in fund-raising concerts for various different organisations or simply by talking and writing about issues to help raise awareness. I also thought about clarifying to this person that I totally respect everyone’s right to choose whether to join in with my wee Christmas card idea or not; some residents choose not to because they still like to hand out their own cards, some don’t want to donate to my chosen charity and some, as a matter of principle, don’t donate to any charities at all. I respect each and every one of those personal choices. What upset me a little bit was the fact that this person had decided to make a donation and have their name included on the ‘Village Christmas Card’ but had done it with a bit of a ‘Humph’ attached. And that’s why, initially, I wanted to tell this person to take their cheque and stick it where the sun no longer shines!

Anyway, after careful consideration, I decided against doing any of the above! I decided that I’d be cutting off my nose to spite my face. And I appreciated the fact that this person had parted with some of their money, whether begrudgingly or not. And I decided that I’d rather see the money being added to the pot, than handed back. And, finally, I decided that it would be far better to keep my thoughts on the matter firmly to myself......well, sort of.......!

Writing a wee poem about the Bertie

I think I should apologise to anybody reading this who doesn’t belong to the Heart of Scotland Choir. Yes, I am still harping on about our concert the other night!

I've not been sleeping all that well since Saturday (surely it can’t still be the adrenalin?!) so I spent some time late last night writing one of my wee poems. I’ve found - in the past - that scribbling a poem about an experience can help to unravel my thoughts about it. So, here's my thought-sorting ditty about the Bertie experience! I’ve recorded me reciting it as it doesn’t really make as much sense when you read it without my intonations (which is the same for most of my poems – and that’s why I’ll never win any prizes for poetry!!). However, Youtube's playing silly buggers with me tonight and I can't get the video to upload. So, the written version will have to do for now!

My thoughts on The Bertie Experience

When the choir last performed at the Bertie,
I was sat watching TV,
I’d never heard of Heart of Scotland,
It really meant nothing to me.

But luckily Gordon had gone along
With a crowd of his pals from school,
And when I went to pick him up
He was like, “Aw Mum, that was SO cool!”

So when we got home we looked on the web
And checked out the songs on Youtube,
I was like, “Wow, they’re awesome!
I didn’t expect them to be THAT good!"

Now, fast forward to nine months later
(As the whole story would take me an age)
To the choir’s next Bertie performance,
And there we were – up on the stage!

We first sang 'I’m So Excited'
As an opener, the perfect song
As all of our friends and our families
Could clap, cheer and sing along.

'I wish' I could bottle that feeling,
- So high you could 'Rule the World' -
By the time we sang 'Viva La Vida',
All tension and nerves had unfurled.

We sang 'Lean on Me' acapella,
And sounded like 'Angels' above,
It was just 'Like a Prayer' had been answered
As the audience showed us their love.

The appreciation continued
When we sang the next song in the show,
'This is Now' which was written
Just a few short weeks ago.

It's another one written for the choir
By Ray's two talented daughters
They write and support one another
Like a 'Bridge over Troubled Waters'!

The Simon/Garfunkel classic
Was a favourite at the Bertie, I’ve heard,
Jane and Drew sung so beautifully
And many a tear was shed.

The next song we sang is a belter,
It’s always sung out loud and proud,
So 'Firework' sung at the Bertie
Went down a real treat with the crowd!

I’ll pause here to mention how talented
Our choir leader Annie is,
Time and again her 'True Colours' shine through
And the gig at the Bertie showed this.

Not only did Annie play piano,
And direct so we knew what to do,
And sing with the choir and sing solos,
And chat to the audience too.

She’d also arranged nearly all of the songs,
In her own special wonderful way,
And 'Somebody Told Me' she’d taken the Juniors
Earlier on in that day!

'What a Wonderful World' she’s created,
Along with her talented sis,
In the truly special and magical thing
That the Heart of Scotland is.

The song that came next at the Bertie
Was the anthem that Greig sings so well,
Representing a story
Only 'Movin on Up' can tell.

And then it was nearly the interval,
Time to head back up the stair,
But not before we’d rocked the hall
With 'Livin on a Prayer'!

A quick chat with pals and a wee drink of juice
And plenty of plaudits already,
Before we went back to our place on the stage,
Though this time our nerves were more steady!

The opening song of the second half
Had the audience all going “Bless!”
When the choir weans lined up at the front
And gave 'Give it Away' their best!

Everyone was looking forward
- Choir and audience alike -
To hear Annie sing 'Here You Come Again',
A highlight, for sure, of the night.

We all clapped, were delighted to see
Our Annie take centre-stage,
With Steve on piano, Becky on drums
And the lovely Laurie on bass.

The musicians that night were all awesome,
We saw just how talented they are,
Including Dianne with her tambu
And John with his 'Babylon' guitar!

Team Sting then sang 'Every Breath You Take'
And they certainly did themselves proud,
Then we sang one of my favourite songs,
Annie’s 'Above the Clouds'.

It sounded just 'Perfect' and everyone gasped
When it was explained to them all,
That Annie had written this beautiful song
When she was just 13 years old!

'Don’t Stop Me Now' was another hit,
It’s a song that I really love,
The choir and the soloists just let themselves go
T’was the stuff that 'Sweet Dreams' are made of!

'Fix You' was lovely, and sung with such heart,
From the audience there wasn’t a peep,
Then Greig, Drew and Paul raised the tempo and roof
With the awesome 'Rolling in the Deep'.

Ruby had featured throughout the show,
But she captured everyone’s heart,
By enchanting us with her rendition of
'Flower of Scotland' right from its start.

Then it was time for 'Second Summer',
The song that we all adore,
But that meant the show was nearly done
And we would be singing no more!

The crowd weren’t ready to let us away though
Not quite that easily,
So we popped on our cheery Santa hats
For our special wee 'Christmas Medley'!

And then, that was it, the Bertie was done,
We bowed and walked off to the right,
We said our Goodbyes then we headed off home
To reflect on our fantastic night.

From learning the songs at rehearsals,
To finding the perfect red gear,
I loved the WHOLE Bertie experience,
And cant wait to go back there next year!

(13 December 2011)

....I’d hoped that doing this would give me a better chance of a good sleep tonight but, in a moment of madness, I agreed to let Gordon have the ‘after-party’ following his Senior Dance. Thirty odd sixteen year olds will be descending upon us at midnight - clad in their kilts and posh frocks and still raring to go - so I think the chances of me (or Alex) getting a good night’s sleep lie somewhere between slim and none! Ocht well, there’s always tomorrow night.....

...Several hours later...

Video has uploaded at last (though not sure I should be posting it as I'm looking pretty scary!)

Re-living the Bertie

My blogger friend from across the pond, Nicky, left a lovely comment on my last post and was asking if I'd have some nice photos of the choir gig. Judging by the amount of flashing that was going on, I'm pretty sure we'll have some good photos to treasure. In the meantime though, some folk in the audience were recording the concert with their phones. Since 'Fix You' has had a fair few mentions in my blog, I thought I'd post the choir's live version here for posterity. Hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I enjoyed singing it on Saturday.....

Buzzing from the Bertie

“I can’t wait till tomorrow night. Often the anticipation gives just about as much pleasure as the thing itself....”

This is the first line of the blog post that I never got round to finishing on Friday night. I’d intended going on to explain how excited I was about taking part in the choir’s concert in the Albert Halls in Stirling the following evening. I was going to say that I thought it would be a different kind of gig in comparison to all of the others that I’ve taken part in since joining the choir back in April. I would’ve explained that most of the other gigs have been part of something else; singing a few songs before the switching on of the Christmas lights; providing the entertainment at the interval of a fund-raising football match; warming up the crowd before a firework display; performing alongside other acts at various charity events and, of course, backing Annie during her TV appearance. I would probably have gone on to say that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every single one of the things we’ve done so far - even when things haven’t quite gone to plan; like the time we stood out in the rain in the middle of a field, or the times the microphones haven’t worked properly, or the occasions where the stage hasn’t been big enough – and have so many happy memories of each and every one of these gigs. But I would most likely have said that the Albert Halls gig was going to be different because it was going to be the choir’s very ‘own’ concert. The bums on the seats would be there because the members of the audience had bought tickets to come and see the choir – the whole choir – and nobody but the choir. And, I’m pretty sure I would’ve said how excited I was that some of those bums were going to belong to nearly all of my family along with some of my closest friends (most of whom wouldn’t have heard the choir sing until the concert) and how special it would be to be up on stage - having an absolute blast - with my lovely choir family while my lovely real family and friends were out there in the audience to share the experience with me. I think I would’ve finished the post by saying that I was pretty sure I would be really nervous to begin with - and couldn’t imagine how nerve-wracking it must be for the choir’s fantastic soloists - but just knew that once we got going I would hopefully relax and have an absolutely brilliant night. The post would most likely have ended with a prediction that all the hard work that Annie and Jane put in, week after week, to ensure that we can all stand up, sing our hearts out, thoroughly entertain the crowd and have an awesome time to ourselves would more than pay off. The last line of Friday night’s post (had I not been distracted by a chattering Ross and Alex) would’ve said that I just couldn’t wait to have a night filled with special moments that, I was sure, would leave me with some very special memories.

.....the morning after the night before I’m still buzzing from the Bertie! So, it would seem that I would’ve been absolutely right on every single count with Friday night's post – and with bells on!

Remembering Gemma's starring role!

I was looking through some of the wee poems I've written over the years, and came across this wee ditty. You'll see that I'm no T.S. Eliot! This brought a wee tear to my eye; I know I'm biased, but Gemma really was the most beautiful little angel in her Primary School nativity....

The Brightest Star

Wisps of curling hair
Bounce together but fail
To dislodge the silver tinsel halo
So lovingly placed there.

Her star on a pole
Leads the line of white sheets
And shuffling black gutties
On angels' feet.

The chorus of ‘Noel’
Isn’t quite as planned.
Timing is lost
To waving hands

Tiny Tears stares blankly
From the bed of straw,
While shepherds (clad in Dads’ shirts and Mums’ tea towels)
Look down in awe

Three satin housecoats
Swish into the hall
And their wise little wearers
Dump gifts on the doll

Silence for the slightest moment.

Then, a crescendo of little voices
Beautifully sing
‘Hark the Herald
to our new born King!’

And, through smiling tears
I watch my wee star
Not for the last time
Shine brightest by far.

Starting Christmas early...

No matter when the tree goes up, the Milne household always follows the same tradition; silly Christmas hats have to be adorned, Christmas music has to be played, a wee drink or three has to be drunk, lots of chocolate decorations have to be eaten (‘because the string was broken...’), a few sweary words have to be muttered while the dreaded lights are sorted out, and we have to coorie up on the couch to watch ‘Elf’ or ‘The Grinch’ after the last bobble has been hung.

And, even though the Milne kids are all over sixteen years old, this year was no different.

....In fact, this year was a bit different, now that I come to think of it, as the tree went up earlier than ever before. Ironic really; when I think of all the years, when they were little, that the kids wanted to put the tree up as soon as they’d opened the first door on their advent calendars. “It’s far too soon!”, we’d say, and we usually managed to put them off till just a week or so before Christmas Day. So, why so early this year? Well, simply because last night was the only time in December that we could all manage to be in the house long enough to see our tradition through!

I guess I have to accept - sooner or later - that our putting-up-the-tree tradition will no longer be a whole-family affair. However, it made me feel all toasty inside when Ross and Gemma said they wanted to be here – and that’s the reason we went for it yesterday! I guess some folk might think it’s all a bit soft, but it’s a tradition that represents what Christmas is all about for us; just enjoying being together and having some good fun.

....Actually, now that I come to think of it, this year was a bit different for another reason; whoever came up with LED lights deserves a medal! I’m sure ours won’t be the only home that’ll enjoy a much more peaceful festive season without having to find that elusive dud bulb! In fact, not one sweary word passed the lips of Santa this year as he unfurled and plugged in his new set of shiny LED lights! Bliss!

You're never too old..........